Sunday, 13 August 2017
"Shut the door and hurry. I can't stand here all day. My legs hurt. We will send the lift back down." The lift door shuts. She, tall, 7 years his junior but also frail. Her spine has decided to slowly decline. She walks bent over and shuffles her feet over the flooring. No real shoes but those moccasins, rough leather slippers with a sort sheepskin inner. Even though she sounds stronger than she looks, her determination is as strong as ever. It pains her that she has recently had to succumb to the pressure. No more cooking. Her back and legs just can't stand the pressure anymore. Frozen meals are brought once a week for 4 evenings. Once a week it's soup brought by a neighbour, one night left overs and one night Chinese 'from that lovely lady next to the supermarket'. Pity. She LOVED to cook. I believe she was a real whizz in the kitchen all those years ago.
It is 6:15am. The doorbell goes. We both are wide awake within seconds. A doorbell at that time of day can't be good news. She, is a right state, " so sorry to wake you but he has fallen while leaving the toilet. Hurt his back. I can't lift him. Can you please help." How sad. At approx 4 am he went to the toilet, while leaving, the door gave way and he fell. Apparently he must have fallen backwards onto the rim of the toilet bowl. Crawling back to his room and bed- he tried lifting himself up. Didn't work. Too much pain. She, propping a pillow under his head, duvet over his shivering body- kept vigil. Too early to wake the neighbours.
The doctor was called- who in turn decided an ambulance was in order. Admission to hospital. Total confusion. She was in a right state. No children, never married- always friends. Have grown so dependent on each other to give form to their day. Both their own routines - 23 years to date. They niggle and nag each other. They mumble and mutter. They hold hands, they reminisce. They laugh and they share concerns. Now what- how will this end?
It has been 3 weeks of to-ing and fro-ing to hospital. She, no longer coping behind the wheel finally allowing the niece and nephew to dispose of the car. Having to ask, to depend on others for all their wishes and needs. Home help and other necessary organisations have been given the green light. They shrug their shoulders and look sip and sad. She, not now understanding her role in this whole affair - he, wondering how long his body will cope.
I know I'll be keeping a sharper ear and eye open. I know many in our building will do too. We all ask ourselves- how long, what next, will they cope.
He, 94 and counting - she 87 and losing track.
Friday, 4 August 2017
I don't know whether that has any bearing on the resulting restrictions, rules and other red tape that followed. One would wonder though. Seems to me that more knowledge of other cultures including those in one's own DNA profile might help bring about more unity, understanding and bond between nations. Still, that's another story.
This story is about a young couple adapting their lifestyle to today's opportunities. Where as 'in my time' one completed school, got a job, relationship, home, family. Couples worked towards paying off the mortgage, looked forward to retirement and the pension. A crowning feast celebrating 50 years of marriage as a show of love, stamina and for some possibly endurance. I know, a simple sketch and not so for everyone- but here I am generalising. Just painting a broad picture. We had no car or phone. Not for years. Tv programmes were extremely thin on the ground and even the thought of internet wasn't even imaginable to most.
Times, they are a changing. We don't leave our doors unlocked anymore. Our jobs aren't as safe as they were, golden handshakes and silver watches aren't the norm, again generally speaking. Our pension age has been raised only we aren't 'popular' on the job market, the youth struggle for permanent contracts. Working from home to ease congestion on the roads very appealing and in some instances financially rewarded by corporates.
Angela and Tino are a young dutch couple ( Dutch Nomad Couple) grabbing the new age opportunities with both hands. Leaving behind the 'humdrum' of a permanent residence. Away from the considered norm everyday life. They aren't running away. They are in fact, consciously walking towards a healthier ( for them) lifestyle. Responsibilities can be carried out no matter where you live. Earning a living is no longer dependent on a permanent position behind a desk, in a store, office of factory. The challenges and opportunities have changed.
Months of planning, researching, acting out the steps very concisely they waved their permanent status goodbye in September 2016 and embarked on a world wide adventure. They make use of all the modern facilities, possibilities and allow us homestayers to follow their antics, listen to their stories and not have to leave our armchairs. I listen, look and learn about places and people I never dreamt possible I would visit. Their enthusiasm is catchy. Their awe at what they discover is endearing and worth every respect.
I can go on and on about what I think about this change in lifestyle but I invite you to check it out for yourselves. Angela and Tino love to share their experiences with as many people as possible, hoping they bring some light relief, valuable experiences and insights they encounter on their travels.
Tuesday, 1 August 2017
( I was cleaning up some files when I found this unposted blog and am now trying to recapture it's essence. Seems a pity to not finish what I started a few months ago.)
.. yes, life is about what exactly?
I have mentioned my thoughts on the subject before and it appears to be a reoccurring theme: Why are we here, how are we meant to 'be', to live, to behave?
Life, as we know it. We are born, spend a number of years on this planet and then, the only certainty that we have in life, is that we die. We don't have, wel at least not in general terms, a timetable or schedule of events as for when they are to happen. There isn't a clear timetable. We are but mere dots on a very long historical and eventful timeline.
We experience our childhood, grow into adults, select a path as adults to travel as either single or married person. We have/ or don't have children. We work towards retirement ( hopefully) and some of us look forward to the (possible) grandchildren.
Our working experiences, which enables us to finance our lives, also equips us with life's lessons and other talents.
Some write a 'Bucket List' - you know, about the things one still wants to do before one 'kicks' that proverbiaal bucket. I am not a 'bucket list' type of person. I hope my every day is one worthy of a listing on it's own.
Some burn all boats, sell up and live a nomadic existence so as to purge oneself of all possessions and be 'free' of all burdens. My personality needs stability. A place to rest and feel safe and familiar in.
Some just live from day to day, following a pattern of work, eat sleep - occasional play and repeat that pattern which gives regularity to their existence. Not doing anyone, or anything for that matter, any harm. Live a sheltered life, being of no nuisance to anyone, at the same time not having any connection either with those around them. During my early childhood I was quiet and in the background. I did need people though so found my voice. In a crowd or at a large gatehring, I tend to shuffle to the background. Best in the kitchen!
And then there are those with a mission- a mission in life that gives them their sense of purpose. Those who give unselfishly of their time- the time they have been given to BE someone to someone. Those who serve - in any way or form in society to help those less fortunate in either or both physical or emotional means. They have analysed, discovered or identified a just cause or personal quest to fulfill. These people captivate me. I have an immense respect and admiration for the go-getter, the do-er. Find them inspiring and motivating. My contributions however are tiny and in no way match the 'missionaries' amongst them.
In my circle of friends, people I know and mix with, I recognise all these described personalities. Some are even combinations of the afore mentioned. A colourful, interesting and valuable asset which brings in turn, colour to my life.
Life, daily routines, unexpected surprises, adventures to be had, solutions to find, memories to make. Is our road predestined? Is our future already designed and waiting to be lived? Do our challenges match our abilities even before we meet them?
I guess we can all analyse and explain ( or not) what life means to us individually. The outcome may be as diverse as the one I've painted above. Maybe we aren't meant to define life at all- but live it to the best of our ability, grow, learn, improve, challenge, enjoy, achieve, fall, stand tall and be grateful.
I guess the story about the seed says it all. If we choose to grow we need to place ourselves in positions in life to do just that. The experiences and learning moments add fertilizer to our lives enabling us to grow some more.
Should we choose anonymity, a quiet withdrawn and colourless life- we will not achieve the heights we may have been destined for. We may wither away, or be that beautiful flower hidden behind that lush green bush.
A bit deep for a Sunday afternoon, while the sun is creeping in onto my desk...caressing my arm and begging me to come outside and enjoy the fresh air.
I will take this invitation to enjoy those rays. Leaving you, my blog reader, to ponder on how you see your life and to what purpose you may or may not be called. I love life, find it enthralling, challenging and most enjoyable. I wish the same for you.
Saturday, 29 July 2017
There he was, our son. Alert and watchful as we 4 eagerly bent over his bassinet. Without a by your leave, my daughter tried to lift him- and the nurse in attendance helped her. She had fallen head in heals in love with this gorgeous human being.
We all had a turn- to hug, hold, love and gently stroke this awesome new gift to our family. We had a 'click' it was noted. That's why we were here. To see if we could bond, like, fall in love with this lovely baby boy who was all of 3 weeks old and placed for adoption.
I have never won a large prize in a lottery- but can in a funny way relate. We had hit the jackpot. Priceless. Which is better than any monetary price we might have won!
Daughter and son were 10 and 8 years old. To no avail had we been able to increase our family size. After nearly 6 years our dream of becoming new parents finally came to fruition. As for not being able to describe the birth emotions, so too is this such an unworldly feeling that overwhelms- the vocabulary in this instance once again falls short.
Within 24 hours of being informed of the arrival of this precious person- we became parents for the 3rd time. A rush of all that happens in 9 months washed over me. Hot, cold, nauseous, shaky, euphoric, disbelief it all showered itself over me. This is the story of the mum in me. Third time round. I cannot speak for how the others felt. Except recall their reactions. That is their experience to recall.
Those first few days were as if I had become a 'first time mum' again. I had to discover his personality, his needs and references. Changing nappies was something one doesn't unlearn, but cradling and feeding, nurturing such a wee man after so long, it is a huge adjustment in such a short space in time.
Added to that was the existing situation. Two children at school, members of clubs, sports, friends. Our own adult lives and occupations. The home and necessary equipment as cot, bottles, baby essentials. No 9 months to get organised. To prepare. That the nesting syndrome can develop one step at a time. People underestimate adoption I think. I have now experienced both. Once again different and yet the result is the same. A new member of the family. Someone needing nurturing, caring for. Protecting. Loving. Recognisable emotions fizzed and popped to the surface of my motherhood self. Informing family and friends. Receiving visitors, gifts, well wishes, shock, disbelief, also euphoric in their happiness for us.
It is funny really. There is no gene compatibility yet my son has characteristics of those who raised and surrounded him in his formative years. His personality traits differ in lots of ways but there are also as many similarities. His build however does set him apart. He has an athletic build. Also due to years of gymnastics and a natural athletic ability. Because of his heritage he has a lovely tanned golden skin and a creativity that shows itself in his musical and artistic talents. This being accompanied by a fiery nature- yet with a gentleness that belies this. Watching him with his 3 young children- one can't imagine him letting off steam. He has a great sense of humor. Unending energy and if he had his childhood schooling now, probably would be described as having an excess of energy. He has a pride that sometimes gets in the way of accepting help or advice. A self reliant person not always finding the easiest of roads to travel. A heart of gold and helpful to boot. He is aware of his own shortcomings - and can get as mad at himself as others may sometimes also do at him.
It has been such a privilege to have been given the mother role to raise him. Always knowing he originated in another womb. I was as proud to become his mother as I was of my other two children. No differences- no 'other' love. Just a mother's love for the children entrusted to her care.
I stand back now, watching my 3 adults traveling the road I travelled those many years ago. All with their own insights, wisdom, uncertainties and goals.
May their joys be everlasting, their pride never ending and their love for their children the biggest treasure of all.
Thursday, 27 July 2017
Everything was different. We lived close to family. I now didn't think I could handle motherhood x2 but knew I could. We did have a phone and to and from family members did happen.
Daughter was approx. 18 months old when it was apparent I was pregnant again. Whereas I had the first 3 months being ill with daughter, I didn't experience that second time round. The 18 months of being mum to a active and energetic daughter had sharpened my perception of what it takes to be mum. A lot of those early months dad was absent- Navy wives ' in my time' got to do lots on their own. Dad's missed out on many 'first time' moments.
The pregnancy can't compare. Everything was different - the birth too. Where I felt the pride and joy and satisfaction of giving birth almost 'textbook style' this story had many hitches, glitches and moments worth remembering but also blotting out. I had 3 attempts at giving birth- third time lucky. Felt such a failure as a woman-mother. "I couldn't even do that properly." Hormones and emotions totally off balance.
It wasn't generally 'done' to check on the gender of the baby before birth. Even if that had been so, I wouldn't have taken that road. The thrill, expectation the long awaited disclosure is something I feel personally, which makes the pregnancy more baby than 'child' oriented. I liked thinking in terms of baby. For me the switch to son/boy or daughter/ girl takes the mystery away. But each to their own. Happily people are allowed and in the position of making their own choices.
And there he was, a healthy baby boy. A son. Again this surge of pride, of protection and nurturing burst forth in me. Another wee person to cherish and care for. Long, skinny, gentle. Content. Times had changed and a long hospital stay was no longer in vogue. I felt great so wanted to go home as soon as an 'all clear' could be given.
The meeting between sister and brother was heartwarming. A touch on the mouth, forehead. "Can I kiss him will he break?" All new and bewitching. A sort of doll but it moved and made noises.
Christmas gifts for our daughter were baby cot, little oven, ironing board, high chair, all home made by her dad. During the pregnancy daughter had shown her affinity with all domestic chores and motherhood. I know it was all very gender oriented- but that's what it was back then. Had she not been affected in that way- it would have been cars and a garage for all we cared. She wanted to bath her baby too.
As the pregnancy was different so was his character and carefree first year. Not sickly but troubled by tonsils and adnoids. Bronchial. And as opposed to his sister, he LOVED to sleep. Lay him down to change a nap, answer the phone, play in the playpen- eyes shut and off to snooze land. Not an early riser. That was so handy and considerate.
With his arrival, and my sister's two boys, my parents had a great time being oma and opa. Even though we lived at some distance 20+ km, it was 'do-able'.
The baby years went fast- lots of happy moments, health issues which caused the odd sleepless night and headaches. Mini accidents, fingers and toes, head bumps, tummy bugs, croup, temperatures. We were no different to the 'normal' family. You took everything in your stride. No special 'father' days. No home help. Just being mum doing 'normal' mum stuff.
The area we lived in was dubbed 'Nappy Valley'. The name says it all. Young families, plenty of children. Also plenty of support. We all were there for one and other. Our two were used to being dropped off at a neighbours if I had a doctor's appointment or whatever and they were also used to having friends over, returning the 'babysit favour'. It was happy, not carefree, but laughter filled time with children developing right under one's nose. Daycare was an oddity and exception to the rule.
With pride I went out and about with my children. Me, a mum of two. People's heads did turn. They were so cute. Both blond as can be. Clear blue eyes. Inquisitive and chirpy. I can with all honesty say that this was one of the most 'joyful periods' I look back on with absolute pride and joy.
The second motherhood experience was so different. One thinks to know what to expect- but nothing is further from the truth. Well, in general terms, but not the reality. Due to the gentleness and contentment of his nature, I had space for the attention my daughter needed.
Placid, easily pleased, non demanding, cheerful, bubbly, quiet, allergic for milk ( oh yes), hospital experience at 9 months, reluctant to part with mum or dad, easy to settle, headstrong - a family trait. Many of those characteristics still present today. A fine man, husband, father and friend as far as a mother can judge that. No, no saint. Can get pretty worked up angry with injustice issues and can raise his voice and get mad as any other person. Just has a tighter control than some. Great sense of humour which he has inherited from his opa. As his build and gait. He walks like my dad... yep he does.
My parenting years are behind me. Yes, there is only a 'I'm here should you need me' task for me now. They are adults in their own right. Being a parent I did my best and being a 'parent on the background' I do what I think is right. It might not be seen that way, but who can say, " I did it perfectly." Is there such a thing- perfect parenting?
The years that followed brought joys and sorrows, worries woes and happiness. Being family is an art. And art has many forms. The shape and form of my family still had one change left to go.
Tuesday, 25 July 2017
To 'do' something with these memories I have decided to write about my 3 children and the impact their arrival had on me as a mum.
It was 1972 and I was pregnant. Bit young, but I thought I was experienced enough in life to be capable of motherhood and all that it entailed.
Those months of my pregnancy were a challenge - I lived more than 650 kms away from my parents and other family members in New Zealand. And half a world away from those in Nederland. Happily we had some lovely neighbours and one set of parents of friends. The mum was a dutch lady. She became one of my 'warm bath' people. Someone I could talk to, share worries or thoughts with. Those one would normally want to share with a mum. My dear neighbour Val, whom I remember with fondness also a great support and place to go when the emotions got too tough. No internet in those days, we didn't have a phone either. Having a private conversation with my parents just didn't happen.
Oh joy of joys when my daughter was born. I felt soooooo proud, so complete. In fact what I felt was so BIG I cannot to this day describe the emotions and feelings of that moment. Just WOW. My daughter. WOW!
She had huge inquisitive eyes, a bright spark. Her hair had a gingery glow. She was short... little- not tiny but little. Oh I was so in 'new mum' heaven. As I was used to little children having been a babysitter since my early teens, had a brother 13 years younger and my sister had already had her first child, bathing my daughter for the first time didn't scare me. I couldn't wait to truly 'care' for my daughter. The nursing staff were surprised to find the 'chore' done when they came into my room.
Breast feeding was an issue. I tried and tried - and didn't succeed past the first 6 weeks. Topping up each feed with the bottle. A choice had to be made. I switched to bottle feeding. The great part was that daddy could feed his daughter too. I felt quite sad for him all those extra moments I had and all he could do was look on. This seemed much fairer. It is also, my personal opinion, that he and she were able to bond so beautifully. He loved holding her and caring for this new life. We took turns during the night shift feeds.
As I said earlier, a bright spark. Sleep was a useless activity madam decided. It was a long day- being able to finally settle her around 9pm. The short catnaps during the day topped up her energy levels enough to last the distance.
We had a playpen- and she would lie in it at first with rugs and soft toys. It soon became a place to play. At 5 months she pulled herself up on the bars and started 'walking' round holding onto the bars. Yes, I encouraged this. She loved peanut butter sandwiches. I used to feed her through the bars, piece by piece, while she gingerly set the steps to reach the next mouthful. Many a 'expert child rearer' may be horrified at this practice- but what works for one doesn't necessarily work for others. My daughter slept on her tummy, walked early ( wobbly at 9 months and running before her 1st birthday) and was also early out of nappies.
No, she didn't suffer traumas because of it. She is a well adjusted modern woman and mother of 3 and doing wonderful things in life.
Active, creative, self reliant, independent, private, head strong, confident, daring, challenging, serious, sporty, caring, enthusiastic, vulnerable, tough, resilient.
We don't always see eye to eye. I can say with all honesty, she runs rings around me as far as activities and challenges are concerned. I cannot keep up with her, nor need I do so. Her life is so different yet paralel with mine way back then. Her challenges seem larger, harder, but times have changed. I am glad I had the moments I've had as a young mum when I did, and look with awe to the challenges spread out before young families today.
My greatest gift was to be a young mum with a daughter who kept me on my toes. My reward is seeing what a strong character she has grown in to be and having the privilege of being oma to her 3 children.
Darling daughter... there are no words to express my feelings and love for you. It is ever present and not a day goes by I don't think of you - so far away and yet close in my heart!
Sunday, 23 July 2017
This morning my ICT expert assisted me in re-organising my failed Office package. I had also received numerous messages from Apple that my storage was filling up. Time to take charge and tidy up my files.
Well I don't know about you, but when I unearth old photos or letters, I tend to get a bit side tracked. The result this time has been that I have mulled over my motherhood period when my children were little. Actually the pregnancy and early years memories to be exact.
Now, I tend to overload my storage area in my head too. The way to clear it somewhat- not erase, just tidy up, is to put thoughts ''on paper'. That is exactly what I have spent the past couple of hours doing. I typed and typed. Fixed errors ( I hope) and have re-read what I've written. Many many memories remain unwritten- but that's ok. What I've shared I am content with.
As a mum and proud of all 3, I realised I have never shared these thoughts with them or anyone for that matter.
I hope that when they read it, they get to know me better. And for those 'strangers' who read my stories- maybe your own memories will float to the surface- and the knowledge of those moments may just trigger a feeling of nostalgia, pride, joy and possibly also sadness and/or regret. All these emotions are human, necessary and hold healing properties where healing is needed. Life is a combination of good with bad. Believe me, none of us escape that unfortunately. Some more often that others.
I have been privileged to have raised 3 children. They are adults now and raising their own families. May their joys be as abundant as mine were, their recollections heartwarming and their rewards unrestricted.
Parenting, one of life's privileges. And I am grateful I was one of those granted that role in life.
Over the next week or so 3 stories of my experiences will be posted...so keep your eye on my blog if you are interested.
Saturday, 22 July 2017
I don't always watch the programme - depends on who the interviewer is- or the subject being interviewed.
The article this morning touched me. Funny. As I am not accustomed to being affected in this way reading about someone unknown and feeling an empathy which was most uncanny. I recognised myself in this person and some of her experiences. Her analyses of why she had developed certain mannerisms and characteristics were so familiar, that it was an eyeopener for me. It explained so much I sort of knew about myself but never acknowledged or thought consciously about. And when I did, I quickly pushed it aside. Not a nice place to visit.
Bullying: A hot item. Just the word alone makes me uncomfortable. Even as an adult it upsets me. Brings a nauseating feeling to the surface. I have no intention of 'going there' but believe me when I say, " I have first hand experience - having been at the receiving end both as a child and later as an adult."
So did the interviewee in the paper. She described some of her mannerisms and ways she had developed characteristics after her negative experiences, that are similar to mine. Always wanting to please, always needed affirmation. Always thinking that, "I am not good enough, try harder to be nicer, give more, take less, shrink don't be so present". At a gathering I would rather be in the kitchen than in the reception area. Give me the sink.... not the stage. If someone doesn't ring or call, I think it is my 'fault'.
Now that doesn't mean I do not like to 'be nice' or even that I find myself continually in battle with myself. It just means- I have a natural tendency to say yes, to be alert, helpful or bow to other's wishes. Well, generally speaking. As I got older I grew in the need to put my foot down and my own needs came first - but that comes at a cost. I do however struggle with guilt issues when I don't meet a need or disappoint due to other commitments or circumstances where being helpful isn't possible. I enjoy seeing others happy, especially if in some way I have helped bring that about.
As I mentioned, it comes at a cost. Being well willing, comes naturally. Putting my wishes first doesn't. I am in continual battle with myself. I get nervous. Insecure, doubting. My behaviour is at times erratic and nervy. I make mistakes, bad judgements and become dithery. I come across incapable. Mostly because I am afraid of the reactions, judgements or not having pleased someone who might be affected simply because I put my foot down. I have a number of people on pedestals - at heights I can only admire, and with a certain misgiving that I will never be able to match that. It makes me nervous and uncomfortable at the same time.
Sad thing about that is, is that it colours my thinking, my actions and the expectations that others have of me. I want to meet the expectation - then I set the benchmark and I get it wrong.
How to fix something that is broken? This eternal need to please has damaged a few relationships in my time- and I hurt just remembering. Even now I know the relationship between me and a few 'close' people is precarious. Fragile and at a point where I do not know how to fix them. Me, a pleaser.
This is the first time I have put this on paper. I am, as the saying goes, finding a richer wisdom by age. Yet some answers still elude me. Having written this, thought deeply about it and re-read about 10 times, I see and understand more and more about my actions, my emotions, my 'me'.
Right now, this interview, the revelations and the inner soul searching has zapped my energy and left me feeling fragile and bruised. I know and believe that eventually I too will gain more insights to help me repair what needs repairing, adjust what needs adjusting and hopefully level off what needs leveling.
Anything with 'too' in front needs to reduce in size. Too much pleasing can be too much of a good thing. There is only one thing in life that deserves 2 OO's and that's love. One cannot love too much!
Thursday, 13 July 2017
Let me then tell you, that the Northern Hemisphere summers are more like those I experienced in my years of living in NZ.
Topsie Turvy seasons at best.
Summer is my least favourite season. Yes, you read that correctly. I prefer the somewhat cooler temperatures that Spring, Autumn and even Winter brings. Not that I dislike being warm, a gentle 20-24 tops, is more than enough for me to feel as if I am in the tropics. No, I am not complaining but stating a personal preference weather wise. There are lots of things one can do, despite the weather, and still get the most out of life.
And that is one of the challenges I think. To make the most of any given opportunity and see what a richness in experience it brings. That is exactly what happened here last week.
Every year we enjoy a 3 day weekend away with friends. Each couple ( there are 4) takes turns in planning, arranging and organising such weekend. We've enjoyed 11 such events to date. The latest being last week. The only difference this time was that we spend Friday to Tuesday in each other's company.
In an impulse last year we decided, after seeing a group of men on a launch, that that is what we would like to do 'one day'. Well, obviously you don't cruise round on such a boat for one day- we made it four.
Staying in a hotel has it advantages that you can 'withdraw' and have some down time. On the boat that isn't as easy. The friendships are long, personal and valuable. How would they be after 4 days being constantly close and in a reasonably comfortable but confined space? Sharing toilets (2) and showers(2).
The weather couldn't have been beter. The boat cleaner. The area more beautiful. The timing was perfect- school holidays had started but not in the province we elected to be in. We were all ready to face whatever challenges 'driving' such a boat would bring. There were deckhands, washer uppers, and of course the captain and the cook. Two VERY IMPORTANT people.
My challenge was; to cook healthy, interesting and delicious meals for 8. To provide a good start to the day (breakfast), nourishment during the day ( lunch) and of course closure ( dinner).
The challenge for the captain, who has had some experience in a sloop - but never such a large vessel, to get the boat along side jetties and giving orders to the deckhands for tying up etc. And did he succeed - YESSIR! Learnt a few new tricks while he was about it too!
Obviously the deckhands/washer uppers, had their own challenges.
We had a ball. Yes, the space was limited, the facilities sometimes bit restricted but oh what a joy. What a support and co-operation. What companionship and commaderie! Sure, not all slept like they were used to. Making do with less a lesson in appreciating the more we have at home. Staying 'indoors' while the others bathed on deck wasn't an issue as I spent that time in the kitchen....!
Our ( hubby and mine) summer holiday experiences - both together in the MG with once again limited space, and on the boat has enriched us in ways I hadn't thought about. I cherish my friends even more, my bed as well and my kitchen- ooooh what a blessing!
Most of all. I am proud we all made this happen and came out stronger than when we started on this adventure.
Oh yes, and what did I spot while paying a visit to Sneek in Fryslân - KIWIS on the water partaking in a water related competition!! My holiday had it's cherry on top!
Monday, 26 June 2017
Sunday, 23 April 2017
Analysing the trip Down Under.
As I mentioned in previous blogs, I have been planning my visit to my (grand+)children for a good while now. The closer the departure date came, the more serious I attacked the necessary arrangements and items of interest so to speak. The gifts - though not in large quantity are more for the fun and just because omaverweg's suitcase needs to hold gifts.
During those months I had booked my flight with China Eastern Airline ( using vliegtickets.nl), I received about 4 schedule adjustments. They didn't amount to much, were more a nuisance so I stoppen printing them off. This was 't something I had experienced before with the other companies I had flown with ( Cathay Pacific, Singapore Air, Qantas, China Airlines). Once a flight and time chosen this didn't vary. I always knew how long my stopovers were to be and planned accordingly.
Then the Friday afternoon before leaving ( I was due to leave the following Wednesday) I was informed that my time of my stopover in Shanghai had been increased by as much as 5 hours. My giddy aunt did that rile me. Weeks before I had tried to leave a day earlier- without succes, and now without a by your leave my schedule was altered drastically. I started to wonder about my choice of Airline.
The staff at Vliegtickets.nl were also 'not amused' and finding no joy at the airine for a hotel room, they booked me a room at their expense. What a lovely gesture. It wasn't something they needed to fix, bit did! Good on them. As a paying customer, i felt ad though they were doing me a favour by allowing me on the plane!!! Instead of being pleased I had booked with their airline.
The departure delay also meant problems with checking in. One can only do that 24 hours prior to departure. So another X on the list of unsatisfactory service. The first part of the flight was hosted by KLM. The service was great, the food was too as was the staff- ever so friendly they were. And what a lovely plane.
Without any hickups we arrived at Shanghai Airport at the expected time. I had been informed when checking in at Schiphol, that I had to get my luggage off the bagage bay and see to it's placement on my ongoing flight. The KLM staff on board the flight were under the impression that the system wasn't automatic. So, off the plane, through customs, and because I needed to stay 15 hours I had to fill in an immigration form. " Shock horror"! It said I needed a visum. So pleased there was a passenger in the know- a stay of less than 72 hours didn't require one. Sigh of relief!
After a reasonably thorough scrutiny at customs I trotted off to the baggage pick up. I waited and waited and waited. Not anywhere in sight. Drug dogs gone, all other passengers gone- the staff member at the Luggage claim pointed me in the direction of the Luggage Information Office. English was not a language this person had managed to learn. Hands and feet did the tsking! By this stage I wasn't only tired I had added another X on my growing list of negative experiences.
English isn't a strong point in Shanghai I have to say. They try, really they do but.......! Frustrations galore on that score too. My bag was automatically sent on, so the young man at the counter advised me. He looked at me as if I had cursed when I said that I had been told I was responsible for this. He shook his head. No, it would be on plane tomorrow ma'am, really! Here's hoping. I am on the plane writing this- I'll know in a few hours whether my suitcase was too.
So far I have to say there were a few X-es. Since returning to the airport I have had plenty of happy moments. I was a wee bit tense as I wasn't sure how the procedure was going to flow - I had as yet not check-in nor had I my boarding pass or seat! With a few scary moments and 15 minutes with a cheery young male attendant I merrily piloted myself through customs and security. A very modern airport. My vague feeling is that it is the same architect as the one in Taipei. Very compatible. Almost all perfume and smelly stuff stores. Can't and didn't expect Changi Airport ( Hongkong) size in Shanghai so my walkabout was reasonbly quickly 'round'.
Breakfast had been served around 8 am just before landing here from Schiphol. At the hotel I munched on a couple of Pringle chips I had fortified myself with from home. It was now almost 8 pm and time for a decent meal. First place I fancied they didn't take Mastercard but would accept Visa. Weird deduction but oh well - their loss! Then I struck GOLD. Almost next to the Gate I needed to be at for departure a cafe style eatery with genuine Chinese cuisine. Ohhhh I could have kissed the waitress. There I sat with a lushious bowl of chicken soup, a steam basket with 5 of the most delicious pork meat dim sims with sauce and as the cherry on this lovely meal event - a teapot with REAL jasmine tea. BLISS BLISS BLISS. So many sins (Xes) were pushed to the back of my mind.
I spent the next hours playing Rummicup, walking in circles and even had a sleep stretched out over 3 chairs. The departure lounge was filling up. At 00:30 the gate opened and in a very orderly fashion ( total opposite to when we left Schiphol which was bedlam) we filed down to the air bridge, got seated and were ready for takeoff before you could blink an eye. Taxi-ing to take off took longer! Thought we were going to drive to Auckland for a minute.
A light warm meal has been served and cleaned up. I think the girls are doing the dishes as we speak. Plenty of turbulance which isn't my cup o tea.
I haven't landed yet to reclaim my suitcase, or made my return trip home. I have however decided, that is airline probably has lots going for it, but it wouldn't be my first choice - even if the price is lower than others I have had more relaxed travel experinces with.
Maybe because things were so muddled and unpredictable. The original drama is behind me- who knows how much better things can go from here.
- Update: my suitcase WASN'T on the flight. I spent 5 days wearing the same clothes. Washed admittedly during the night but still very uncomfortable.
When I finally received my suitcase my conviction was complete. I will avoid the airline on future trips - I still have to fly home in May. My confidence is at low ebb. Here's praying for a better experience.
Friday, 31 March 2017
The word alone says it all. F E A R! What is your first reaction to it? How do you cope with F E A R?
Wisdom comes with age is the old saying. I am not sure about ALL wisdom, but I do know I actually 'see' things differently as my age gathers momentum.
When I was a child I was afraid of lightning. Not the thunder although they did go hand in hand- but LIGHTNING- that put the F E A R fair and square into me. An experience in my childhood was the reason for this strong and long held emotion- and truth of it all, I am still not comfortable when lightning strikes. I would hide - anywhere and for as long as it took. Even as an adult raising my children. While they laughed, I trembled.
When I was about 38 years old I needed a hysterectomy. I was all set to ring the hospital to have me taken off the list when the appointment to be admitted presented itself. I was positively scared stiff.
F E A R of the 'what if?' and 'what else will they find?' and the 'aftermath'. It all scared me to bits.
Life has a habit of producing moments of uncertainty, insecurity and unforeseen events that can cause the reaction of F E A R to overwhelm and sometimes paralyse us. But does that help in any way at all? Does it answer the most important questions that we have regarding the 'whatever we are scared about' issue? NO!
It demotivates, undermines and disables our ability to cope with the unexpected, the unwanted and the unknown. F E A R is actually the negative factor, not that 'thing' which we have to deal with.
Recently someone very dear to me underwent a series of operations to remove cancerous tissue and suspect lymph nodes - she had been diagnosed with malignant skin cancer. F E A R crept under my skin, it crawled over my scalp en got into my head. I felt paralysed and shaken. In all honesty, it took a couple of days for me to realise that I had given my control over to that F E A R again.
I spoke to a dear friend about this and she said, "watch out for that seed. If you let it, it will grow into a tree and take root. Don't let
F E A R be the ruler of your thoughts and deeds. You won't be able to think straight or offer the support needed. Your every move will be clouded by F E A R and that isn't a pretty sight." Now I already knew this but I needed someone to remind me - F E A R is the enemy not the unknown, unexpected or unwelcome challenge which life threw at me.
Since I let F E A R go and started thinking rationally again, I regained my rest, slept better and was able to be positive during a trying and uncertain period. The dangers have abated, the future looks a lot better than a few months ago and I have re-learned a lesson which I obviously needed to re-embrace and make mine. F E A R doesn't belong in my thinking or my handling. Assuming the worse isn't helpful nor is thinking that one is helpless in any given situation.
There is ALWAYS a way out, a solution. Be bold and weed out those seeds before they grow into those trees through which you can't see daylight when F E A R takes hold.